


The Sailor and The Siren

by My_Trex_has_fleas



Category: Poldark - All Media Types, Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: Historical, M/M, Sirens, sailors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/My_Trex_has_fleas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is shipwrecked and drifitng alone n the Atlantic when he dreams of a beautiful dark haired siren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sailor and The Siren

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tweak-girl (Sansa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansa/gifts).



> This was writtena s part of a collaboration with the glorious Tweak Girl and was inspired by her wonderful art.

The flat grey green ocean was tipped with white where the currents pushed the waves up and the low air pressure pulled them with it. The sky above was coloured to match and a knot of albatrosses wheeled overhead, their thin cries almost lost in the noise of the wind.

The sailor lay in the bottom of the life raft and stared up into the sky. It had been a day since his ship had been torpedoed out from under him and he was still in a state of shock. So he lay and looked into the heavens as if in search of an answer.

His name was James Robert Hawkins and he was a Third Lieutenant in His Majesty’s Royal Navy. He was young, barely twenty, and his smooth face was smeared with oil and soot, making his startlingly blue eyes stand out even more and contrasting sharply with his thick blond hair. His current state had been the result of a war that raged across half of Europe and the world. Like many others, he’d joined the Navy when still a child and he was the veteran of many voyages. So he knew that he was unlucky, that his fellow sailors that had died instantly in the explosion or who had slipped beneath the waves never to resurface had escaped into the afterlife with a minimum of suffering.

Jim would not be so lucky, condemned to die a lingering death from thirst or hunger or exposure. His mother would take it hard, alone in the free house in Somerset where he’d grown up and first learned to love the sea. She had begged him not to go, could not face the thought of losing him when she had already lost his father, but he had been determined to go.

He sat up and looked around him, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on his arms. He would not starve, at least not yet. There were provisions – tins of water, biscuit and chocolate tablets. It would take a while. There was also line and hooks so if he were feeling particularly stubborn he could probably hold on for at least a week or two. Unless his water ran out of course and there was no rain. But it was going into October and rain would probably fall.

Yes, plenty of time for him to go quietly mad out on the open ocean.

**********

The first week went by slowly. Jim had no watch, and so no way to tell time accurately, although he had cut a notch into the boat’s rail to count each day. He could follow the path of the sun, track the stars at night as he had been taught when he was a midshipman. It was the boredom more than anything. He’d always had an active mind, loved reading even from an early age. But here all he had was a ship’s knife and a small book of signals which he already knew by heart.

The next morning he found that he was down to his last tin of water and his last pack of biscuit. A strange sense of inevitability stole over him. In a fit of pique he decided he would prefer to die than spend one more day on that accursed raft with not a soul to note his passing. That night he had a fine dinner, eating and drinking it all and felt satisfied for the first time since he’d come into these circumstances. He couldn’t rightly remember much from the days and nights that had blended into one. The night was fine and clear and he could watch all the constellations cross the sky until he finally fell asleep if he chose, huddled in his ship’s coat.

Jim lay down and set his eyes on the North Star. He didn’t know why he started singing, but it was so quiet and his voice sounded strangely loud to his ears.

_I dreamed a dream the other night_  
_Lowlands, lowlands away my John_  
_I dreamed a dream the other night_  
_Lowlands, my lowlands away_  
_I dreamed I saw my own true love_  
_He stood so still, he did not move_

He sang long into the night, every song and shanty he knew and had committed to memory. The next morning there was nothing to eat or drink, and yet he felt calmer than he had in all the time before. A languidness came over him and he did nothing but lean against the side and trail his fingers in the water. It streamed through his fingers, clear and cool and he wondered if he would die quicker were he to drink it. But at the end of his consideration he could not bring himself to do it, his sailor’s instinct too strong to disobey.

That night he did the same, lying and looking at the stars as he sang. He wasn’t sure but he thought he heard once or twice the sound of something moving in the water moving about the boat, but when he strained to hear what it was it was gone. He was tired though and couldn’t bring himself to sit up and look. Instead he lay still and sang, his voice getting progressively quieter as the night passed.

_We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors_  
_We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas_  
_Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England_  
_From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues_

His voice died away with the last chorus. He’d developed a terrible thirst, although the headache he’d had had finally abated. The moon was out and he could see quite clearly by its light. Then Jim heard it again, the definite sound of something quite large in the water on the port side of the boat. This time it didn’t disappear like it had earlier. It kept moving, as if circling the boat.

Finally Jim’s curiosity became too strong to resist and he managed to push himself off the bottom of the boat and get to the side. He was tired now, his dehydrated body trying to keep him as still as possible to conserve his energy. When he finally braced his arms against the side and looked down, all he saw was black water, rippling and dark. There was nothing else to be seen. He sighed, a soft defeated sound and turned away to lie back down.

And then he saw him.

At first Jim thought he was dreaming. He frowned and then dug his nails into his palm as hard as he could. The pain was slight but enough to convince himself that he was awake. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them the vision was still there. It was a young man, perhaps even of an age with himself. He had his arms crossed on the boat rail, his chin resting on them.

Jim sat and stared at him.

He’d always thought of sirens as female. That was how they were in all the tales his father had read to him. Beautiful women who spirited sailors down into the depths and drowned them, lured by their beautiful voices and liquid eyes. The siren was beautiful, that much was true. He had thick black hair hanging in untamed ringlets about his face, which was sculpted in elegant lines with a fine nose and wide mouth. His eyes were dark and as bright as the moonlight off the water and there was dark stubble along his strong jaw. His skin was pale, and it had a strange cast to it that was almost blue in the moonlight. He emanated a deep salty smell, like the iodine rich stink of algae at low tide.

They looked at each other, the dark eyes staring into Jim’s blue ones. Then the siren slipped back down below the water. Jim scrabbled to move to the side he’d been resting on but when he looked into the water there was nothing.  
It was a long time before he fell asleep the next night.

The next morning, Jim woke with the sun high above him. His tongue was thick in his mouth and he barely had the energy to life his head. The sun was too bright and he dearly wanted to lift his arm to cover his eyes, but could not muster the strength to do so. So he lay there, not even able to shed a tear for himself. In his despair, he let his barely cognisant mind drift to what could only have been a hallucination. He dreamed of the siren, his dark curls and shining eyes, and for a brief moment he felt happy.

Jim did not see the clouds start to draw in, nor felt the winds change and start to pick up speed. But when the rain began to fall, he felt it. He lay and licked the raindrops from his lips and then opened his eyes and looked at the rolling grey clouds overhead. It started slowly, only a few drops here and there, and then it started to come down. It rained in steady streams and Jim drank it in, the rain water tasting better than the finest cask ale from his mother’s free house. It rained all night, and he was lying in an inch of water but he couldn’t have cared less. It rained steadily into the afternoon, and by then Jim had enough of his strength back to sit up and place the empty water tins to catch the water. By the time it stopped in the afternoon, and the sun came out, he had drunk his fill and all the tins were brimming.

Jim was now sitting in the stern. He’d stripped off his clothing, washing it in the rainwater still lying in the bottom of the boat. He had drunk so much water, he felt like he was making sloshing noises when he moved. The sun was warm and he felt almost giddy with happiness. He took his sea knife, and cut away the beard that had grown as best he could, feeling much better once he had done so. Then he considered his situation. He had no more food, but he had enough water for at least a few more days. A few days before he had been ready to die. But now, he simply lay back and luxuriated in the sun’s warmth. By the time it was starting to get dark, Jim felt more or less himself again. He was young and strong and it didn’t take too long for him to feel far better than he had.

He was dressed once more and leaning back to look up at the sky. A song came to his mind unbidden. Jim started to sing, the only thing occupying his senses the sound of his voice. He ran through the verses, his voice lilting in and out of key.

_His hair it does in ringlets hang, his eyes as black as sloes,_  
_May happiness attend him wherever he goes,_  
_From Tower Hill, down to Blackwall, I will wander, weep and moan,_  
_All for my jolly sailor bold, until he does return._

The sound of movement made him stop and focus on the bow of the boat. What he saw made Jim catch his breath. He had not been at all convinced about the reality of what he’d seen the previous night. In fact, Jim had pretty much convinced himself that he had hallucinated the entire thing, his dehydrated body making him see things that weren’t possible.

But no.

He stared in disbelief, knowing that he wasn’t asleep or dreaming or under the influence of the lack of water even if he was still feeling a little strange. The siren’s dark eyes were fixed on him. In the light of the evening, Jim could see that he was far more beautiful than he’d imagined.

‘Are you real?’ he asked and the siren tilted his head. Then he smiled, a small shy thing that chased the corners of his mouth. Jim was amazed. ‘Where did you come from?’ Another smile, the wide mouth showing a hint of sharp white teeth.  
Then to his complete astonishment the siren lifted an arm and slung something into the boat. Jim looked down and saw it was three fish, tied together with some sort of hemp rope. When he glanced up again, he could see the siren watching him with what seemed like an expectant look on his face.

‘Are they for me?’ Jim asked, and then wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of his question. Instead he looked at the siren and was newly surprised to see him nod. ‘Thank you.’ He leaned forward to reach for the fish, but when he sat back the siren was gone. Now Jim did laugh, more out of sheer disbelief than anything else.

He also ate the fish.

That night he slept well, his belly full and his thirst abated. Not even the cold could make him feel ill-kept. And whenever he awoke, it was to the sound of something moving about the boat.

The next morning he awoke to find the siren resting on the bow rail, watching him intently. It was the first time Jim had seen him in the light, and the sunrise painted the siren in shades of pink and gold.

‘Good morning.’ he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. ‘I would invite you in for breakfast but I fear I have nothing to give you.’ The siren said nothing, just rested on his arms and smiled at Jim. It was sweet smile and it set off a strange feeling inside him. Jim sat up and looked at him, realising that the siren’s hair was dry and was now a mass of unruly curls that hung in his eyes which were not as dark as he’d thought but a most beguiling mix of brown and gold and green.  
‘How long have you been watching me?’

The siren gave him a one shouldered shrug, then stared at the fish bones that Jim had carefully hoarded in the bottom of the boat, hoping to maybe use them as bait to try and fish later. Jim followed his gaze.

‘Thank you for bringing them.’ he said. ‘It was very kind of you.’ Then he laughed, as the absurdity of what he was doing caught up to him. The effect on the siren was unexpected. He flew back from the rail, moving swiftly to a distance of a few feet, a startled expression on his face.

Jim couldn’t help it. The look on the siren’s face was so childlike in its surprise that he kept on laughing, laughed until the tears were running down his face with the sheer exuberance of it. He finally managed to get himself under control. When he did, he saw the siren looking at him quizzically. Jim moved to the edge of the boat and now he could see in the clear morning light that the siren was upright in the water, a flash of deep blue scales signalling where his tail moved steadily back and forth to keep him up.

‘Don’t go.’ he said. ‘I am sorry if I startled you.’ He leaned to rest on the rail. ‘I was just laughing because I have surely gone mad. I am all alone in the Atlantic and you’re the first person I have seen in nearly two weeks.’ He leaned his chin on his hand. ‘I am fearfully in need of company and so I think my mind has decided to dream you up.’ The siren listened to him, then moved a little closer. Jim lowered one hand to drift in the water. ‘Please, stay a bit.’ The siren drifted ever closer and until they were only a foot or so apart. They were close enough for Jim to see the dark eyelashes stuck together with water and hear the creature breathing. That struck him as odd for surely his mind could not conjure up such fine details. He stretched out his hand a little further, an urge to touch, to feel clamouring in his mind. Then maybe he would be satisfied. He watched with barely contained elation as the siren got to within touching distance, then slowly extended his own hand. It hovered just out of reach then, quick as a flash, the siren surged forward and touch Jim’s outstretched fingers with his own. It seemed to startled both of them, because Jim fell back into the boat and there was a terrific splash as the siren upended and dove beneath the water, nothing more than a flail of deep blue fins at the surface.

Jim sat in the boat, trying to make any sense he could of what had just happened. This time, when the laughter came, it was joyous.

**********

The siren reappeared at sundown. He bought more fish.

He came the morning after. It rained again that day and Jim refilled his water tins. It was raining frequently now as they drifted into another month.

The siren came again and again. He was now more often there than not.

The notches in the rail now covered the entire length of the starboard side. And every morning and evening the siren came. He bought fish and debris, flotsam and jetsom he’d obviously found on the waves. He brought rope and bottles and fishing net. Some of the things Jim kept and some he threw back. And every day he spoke to the siren as the creature swam around his life boat, or rested on the rail, just as he sang to him every night. He watched Jim with those dark intent eyes and smiled at him when Jim sang or laughed. He was bolder, coming to rest closer and closer to Jim. He was frequently there when Jim awoke, his dry hair indicating he’d been watching him for some time.

And then an unseasonably hot day. Jim was tired of being stuck on the boat, tired of having nothing to do. He watched the siren frolicking in the water and an idea came to mind. He hadn’t swum since being left in this dire circumstance, although he’d often wanted to. The chance that the boat would drift from him was always too great. But that day the ocean was relatively calm and he decided to take the risk.

He stripped off his clothes and tested the water with one foot before lowering himself over the side. The cool water was wonderful and Jim paddled round the boat, always taking care to stick close and keeping one hand to the rail. The siren watched him with great interest, swimming up and looking at him. In the water, Jim could appreciate the length of the creature’s tail and feel the force of its movement. He ducked under the water once, and opened his eyes to see the siren doing the same, his dark hair floating like a nimbus about his face.

Jim surfaced and reached for the boat and then had a moment of surprise as he realised the boat had drifted a little way away. Thankfully it wasn’t far and he struck out for it. But just as he got to within a reasonable distance, a swell lifted him and the boat up and carried them, depositing him a good fifty feet from where the boat was.

Jim was horrified.

He’d done the stupidest thing he could have done, separating himself from his means of survival. But even as he swam towards the boat, if moved further from his reach. He was not going to be able to reach it.

A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind.

And then he felt it, a tentative touch on his shoulder. The siren drifted past him, closer than he’d ever come before. He stopped in front of where Jim was treading water, getting more frantic as the seconds passed and stopped. Then he turned so his broad back was facing Jim and backed up until he was chest to back with him. His skin was cold from the water, but there was heat underneath and in his panic Jim did the only thing he could think of and put his arms around the siren’s neck.

The siren waited until he was secure and then started swimming, dragging Jim through the water with him. He was powerful, the strength in the muscles flexing underneath Jim’s hands evident. They reached the boat in no time, and the siren held onto the rail until Jim had managed to scramble back in, thoroughly chastised by his own stupidity. He sat there in the boat, breathing hard and trying to calm himself while the siren watched him, worry etched on his face.

‘I am all right.’ Jim said finally, and the siren’s expression eased a little. ‘Just a bloody fool for doing that.’ The siren frowned. ‘I am not like you. I could not survive in the open water for long.’ He sighed. ‘But thank you for being so obliging.’ He moved to where the siren rested, leaning back. Next to him the siren rested his head for a brief moment on Jim’s bare shoulder and then he was gone, sliding back into the water.

***********

Jim didn’t take another chance until a few days later. This time he used a length of rope the siren had bought him to anchor himself to the boat.

To his surprise as soon as he was in the water, the siren came up next to him. He appeared to be bemused by the rope, diving underwater to circle around it. Free of the concern that he would be separated from it, Jim was able to now appreciate how graceful his strange companion was in the water, twirling and moving easily around him.

He swam a good while, but eventually started to tire. He was about to try and pull himself into the boat when he felt a surge of water behind him and turned to see the siren right behind him. Jim was confused and then the siren moved right up against him and pressed his mouth to Jim’s for a fleeting moment.

It was like the sky opening up.

Jim hadn’t the faintest idea what to do. He stared at the siren, who stared back. Then he climbed into the boat. The siren watched him, dark eyes guarded. Then he slipped under the water and didn’t come back until nightfall.

Jim was waiting for his return, slightly alarmed by what had happened. The rush of feeling he’d had when the siren had kissed him was astounding. Like many men his age in the Navy, he’d hardly had sufficient time for courting, although he was well aware of the mechanics of visiting one of the many whorehouses always on offer to men of the sea.

But this was not some woman he’d paid.

This was not even a human.

He sat and watched the water, wondering if the siren would come back. It was well after dark when he heard the now familiar shift of water and then the siren was there, one hand on the rail and a look of trepidation on his face.

It wasn’t even a question of hesitating. Jim moved to where he was, one hand bracing himself on the rail and the other pressed to the dark curls which were soft and springy under his fingers, and kissed the siren for all he was worth. He felt the creature stiffen and then relax, his mouth opening easily under Jim’s. He tasted clean, like seawater and ozone. When Jim pressed further, the siren happily responded. He was making little breathy sounds, rocking the boat slightly with the movements of his tail. It went on until they were both breathless.

Swimming became very interesting after that.

It started with kisses, fevered heated kisses with Jim lying in the siren’s arms as they drifted together. It soon became hands that traced bare skin and sleek scales, panting breaths and the incredible feeling of being pressed up against the side of the life boat as the siren pressed up against him. The first time the siren’s hand drifted lower than normal, his slender fingers wrapping themselves around him until Jim was lost. The release it bought made him shout into the ocean sky, but this time the siren was not startled away.

By the time the notches filled the port rail, Jim was in love.

It couldn’t last.

The storm came with no warning, a squall of such strength that he had no time to prepare or make ready for what would be his final moments.

It came crashing out of a clear blue sky in the middle of the day, bringing waves that topped ten feet and which broke over his life boat again and again, taking everything with them. All Jim could do was hold on and try to catch his breath between waves.

He knew he was going to die, could feel it in his very soul.

His last thought as he was thrown from the life boat was that he wouldn’t get to see his siren smile at him, feel those cold hands on his skin ever again. That not once in the sixty days he’d been lost at sea, had he heard his siren speak.  
He landed in the water, its cold embrace dragging him down and down into the grey depths that clawed at his limbs and made his clothing as heavy as an anchor. He fought against it, trying to reach the surface but not even able to really tell which way was up. His lungs burned with the need to breathe to hit air and keep himself alive for one more moment. He could scarcely believe that once before he had lain down to die. Now all he wanted was to live.

And then he felt them, strong familiar hands that caught him around the chest and steadied him against the siren’s chest. He opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of dark hair streaming past his face. He held on as tightly as he could and waited for his siren to carry him to the surface.

Only this time they didn’t.

This time they tightened and held him still, held him until Jim could not resist anymore, convulsively trying to breathe an struggling desperately as his lungs filled with seawater and the pain got worse and worse as his body fought against his death. Drowning was painful and it scared him. He thought of his mother, left alone in an empty house, of the men he had served with who had gone to their deaths in a sea of fire, of the betrayal he felt at the hands of the creature he’d come to love and who was now surely and inexorably killing him.

The last thing he felt was the press of cold lips against his and the gentle touch of a hand to his face.

*************

The next thing he felt was the sensation of breathing while not breathing.

It was the oddest thing Jim had ever encountered and he opened his eyes and saw that everything about him was crystalline and blue. He stretched, his body feeling strange and unused. There was resistance against his skin, and he looked at his arms and realised he was moving through water. Then there were other arms, stretched out alongside his, and a strong body at his back. He was slowly turned and saw his siren in front of him, a brilliant smile that spoke of love and happiness across the face he now knew as well as his own.

Jim moved into the open arms and took the offered kiss. Then as his siren pulled away and started to swim out of reach, Jim smiled in return, flicked his tail once and followed him.


End file.
